Chapter 633: Shi Ler Is Truly a Good Man (Part 2)

"Here's your feather back—get out of my room, oh, and take him with you." Shi Ler pointed at Constantine.

Constantine and Lucifer both froze, then heard Shi Ler raise his voice: "You keep saying you're my friends—where were you when I was dying?"

"Now that I'm awake, the two of you show up in my hospital room chattering away. Just minutes ago, I was lying on a gurney in the ER, barely clinging to life—and now you want me to go back to work? If that's the case, don't I have the right to quit?"

"What did you just say? You're giving the feather back to me???" Lucifer glanced at Shi Ler in surprise. "You really hit your head, didn't you? What made you suddenly change your mind?"

"I take back what I just said. I have no special interest in a feather that's no better than a goose down. I won't display it in my study—it'd be tasteless."

Shi Ler scrutinized Lucifer with a critical gaze: "Even a full pair of wings holds no appeal for me. That gray isn't the shade I like. If I put it in my trophy case, my friends would laugh and call it outdated."

Constantine watched Lucifer's face darken. He raised both hands between them. "No, wait—Shi Ler, are you insane? Why are you insulting him for no reason?"

"Um… Lucifer, don't be angry. He might not know—Shi Ler, wings are an angelic taboo, like human hairstyles. You can't call them ugly—that's an insult."

"Oh? Then why don't you look at your own hairstyle?" Shi Ler turned to Constantine. "Now you've got a perfect excuse to enter Wayne Manor—just hang upside down, and Alfred'll think his new mop arrived."

Constantine's face darkened too. He looked at Lucifer, expecting the former King of Hell to teach Shi Ler a lesson—but Lucifer paused, then looked at Shi Ler: "You seem to want me to kill you. Why think that?"

"You read minds? … Oh, of course you do." Shi Ler suddenly realized—Omniscient Lucifer could read thoughts. Using provocation on him was useless.

Shi Ler truly wanted Lucifer to kill him, because he thought he'd found the reason neither side would take him.

Lucifer didn't know where Shi Ler had hidden the feather—but Shi Ler knew: it now lay within his soul.

That meant his soul now belonged to Lucifer. As the second-in-command of the entire DC Universe, the Endless family couldn't match him. If Lucifer didn't allow his death, he'd never see Death.

He'd planned to provoke Lucifer into killing him—so Lucifer would personally revoke that permission, letting him find Death.

But there was still a contradiction: if the original Shi Ler's soul also belonged to Lucifer, and Lucifer hadn't allowed death, why had he vanished? And why did Lucifer seem unaware?

As previously noted, Lucifer's level was extremely high—not nearly omniscient, but truly omniscient. If he hadn't noticed Shi Ler's soul had been swapped, what did that mean?

Seizing this opportunity, Shi Ler planned an experiment: provoke Lucifer. But Lucifer's power was too great—he had mind-reading, and saw through Shi Ler's plan.

"You want to find Death?" Lucifer quickly realized more. "That Death from the Endless? Wait… what's this about Dream??"

"You've become the Pope of Dream?!"

Lucifer exploded in fury: "You betrayed me! Don't you know I hate Morpheus? That foolish Dream God…"

"Sorry, I really didn't know. How does Hell usually handle apostates? I assume they're killed?"

"You…" Lucifer started to say, "You think I won't kill you?" Then he paused—if he killed Shi Ler, wouldn't that just fulfill his wish and send him to Death?

"Though I can't kill you, I can pull out your soul and lock it in Hell—until…" Lucifer snarled.

"Wait!" Constantine stepped forward, raising a hand to stop Lucifer. "You'd better not do that."

Constantine had to stop him—if Lucifer sent Shi Ler's soul to Hell, Hell would immediately descend into chaos. The Dreaming was proof enough.

Evidence showed any sentient being could be tempted. If Shi Ler went down with just his mouth, Constantine was certain an unprecedented war in Hell would erupt within days.

Hell fighting didn't matter—Constantine didn't care how many demons died. But if all the demons were busy fighting, who would he borrow power from?

His debts weren't just to demons—he needed their power to pay off other debts.

Constantine was like a man juggling credit cards—shifting powers back and forth, using none of his own to wield powerful magic.

If Hell collapsed, one card defaulting would be catastrophic. Constantine didn't want to be chased across the world—he firmly opposed sending Shi Ler's soul to Hell.

Lucifer felt a flicker of confusion at Constantine's attitude. He paused again, then continued: "…You gave the Dreaming to… Good God! Morpheus—he actually… Hahaha! He got blown up! Well done!"

Lucifer instantly brightened—he'd seen Shi Ler's actions in the Dreaming, including the moment Clark knocked Morpheus flying.

"You can read my memories?" Shi Ler asked.

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I usually don't. Human thoughts infect easily—they lead to foolish acts. I can simply observe the past by following the timeline."

"Time isn't linear to me. If I want to see, I can witness any event at any point. You humans probably can't grasp this perspective."

Lucifer's mood visibly improved. He no longer cared about Shi Ler's earlier insults. "Actually, you have a point. Gray wings might be outdated. All those myth books depict me with gray wings—people must be tired of them. You are too, right?"

"No problem. Tomorrow I'll dye them black. What if I add some effects? I think iridescent would look great."

With Lucifer in good spirits, Shi Ler's mood soured. He turned to Constantine, lowering his voice: "Didn't you say not to insult his wings?!!"

"Lucifer's always been weird," Constantine whispered back, leaning close. "Neither angels nor demons understand him."

"I'm quitting!" Shi Ler shouted.

"I say no!" Lucifer shouted back.

"Why do you object?"

"Why do you want to quit?"

Shi Ler opened his mouth, then realized his urge to quit had come too violently—he hadn't even thought of an excuse. He couldn't say it was because of his PTSD from Green Lantern overtime.

After thinking, he said: "Because I want to return the feather."

"Oh, don't be like that. I already forgave you. You were young, naive. If you like the feather, keep it. And if you cause trouble for Dream, I'll give you another."

The feather meant nothing to him. If he wished, he could conjure countless feathers, giving one to every person on Earth. With a thought, all humanity could sprout wings—it was trivial.

As Shi Ler and Lucifer stood locked in silence, the hospital door suddenly opened. Bruce entered, followed by a furious Angela. The female officer gripped her pistol, glaring at Bruce: "Are you insane? Even if he killed them, they were monstrous criminals—they tried to poison Gotham's underground water with mystical chemicals!"

Angela pointed outside. "Gotham PD has mobilized everyone to raid that underground lab. They just called me—they've gathered all the evidence, even seized the chemical!"

"The files show they didn't just want to pollute the water—they'd already tested the chemical on dozens of people. My sister died because of them. And now you say we should arrest Shi Ler for killing these madmen?!"

Bruce stood motionless. "I'm not defending those owl monsters—they're guilty. But I want Professor Shi Ler to return with me to Gotham PD. Detective Gordon won't wrongfully accuse any innocent person. His mental state must be confirmed."

Honestly, Bruce had been startled by the vicious, deranged Shi Ler. His priority wasn't prosecution—it was confirming Shi Ler's mental condition.

Even if he couldn't confirm it, he had to take Shi Ler back to Gotham immediately. Only Gotham could contain a man like this.

Shi Ler pointed at Bruce, then turned to Lucifer: "See? This is why I'm quitting. I just committed a brutal serial murder. Now I must face trial, then go to prison. You don't want a Pope who's been to jail, do you?"

He started to rise from the bed, ready to leave with Bruce—even signaling with his eyes for Bruce to pull out handcuffs and take him away.

But Lucifer smirked, snapped his fingers: "Who's going to try you? Where's the evidence?"

loubiqu.

Shi Ler glanced at Lucifer, picked up the bedside phone, and dialed Gotham PD. "Hello? I'm turning myself in. I'm the serial killer from the recent case…"

"What? No serial killings? No crimes in the past three months? … Oh, sorry—what's the name of Gotham's largest cleaning company? … Not Snow Mountain Cleaning? You've never heard of it?"

He hung up, looked at Lucifer. Lucifer smiled faintly: "I just glanced along the timeline and eliminated the contradiction. Owls never existed—not ever."

"Also, all the victims have been revived. Oh—you're Angela, right? Go to Anderson Psychiatric Hospital—you'll find your sister. No need to thank me."

"What insane nonsense are you spouting?!" Angela screamed at Lucifer. "How dare you joke about my sister?! She just died!"

"I was being kind—I'm your benefactor," Lucifer said, looking at her. "Even if you don't thank me, you can't point a gun at me."

"Constantine, what does he mean?" Bruce turned to Constantine. Constantine shrugged. "Literal meaning."

Bruce gave his classic skeptical look and began pressing Constantine for details.

In the room, everyone except Shi Ler—still lying in bed—was shouting in overlapping voices, tones rising and falling chaotically, only lacking musicality and artistry compared to a symphony orchestra.

Then—*bang*—everyone fell silent.

Shi Ler removed his hand from the railing he'd just slammed. He folded his hands on the blanket, expressionless, and said: "Do you know? I'm currently on vacation…"

"According to Gotham University's faculty benefits, professors like me get twelve standard vacation days, plus additional subsidized leave—eighteen total."

"University administrators told me it's their proud tradition—no exceptions allowed."

"It's now my second week away from Gotham—day fourteen. So… half my vacation is already gone."

He sighed, forcing a calm tone, but couldn't hide the final edge of anger: "After half my vacation has passed, I've still had no rest. Let me say this one last time—in language you humans can understand…"

"Get. Out."

Everyone froze, then, led by Constantine, began filing out in a line.

At the end of the line, Lucifer paused at the door, shrugged, and said: "University professors get less than twenty vacation days? Even my bar staff get thirty-six."

On the bed, Shi Ler's eyes snapped open with a *click*.

Half an hour later, Shi Ler stood in the hospital lobby with his suitcase, picked up the payphone, and spoke into it:

"Yes, it's me… Yes, ma'am, I'm calling to confirm—my vacation has passed half, correct?"

"What nonsense are you talking, Professor Rodriguez?" came the sharp female voice—the head of Gotham University's administrative office. "You left on April 1st. Today's the 14th—you've only used fourteen days. You still have over twenty!"

"Isn't my vacation only eighteen days?"

"Oh my goodness, Professor, what kind of memory do you have? Didn't I tell you when you left? Professors like you get thirty-six days of vacation annually. You've used fourteen—twenty-two remain. Remember…"

"Of course, ma'am. I remember—Gotham University's fine tradition—no exceptions. I'll bring you souvenirs. Goodnight."

He picked up his suitcase, stepped outside, loaded it into the trunk, got in, started the engine, and pressed the accelerator—all in one smooth motion. One hand on the wheel, the other twisted the radio dial.

An energetic rock anthem blared. A crimson sun sank slowly beyond the desolate horizon. On a straight highway, a Ford sped toward the dusk.

Leaning on the hospital rooftop railing, Constantine exhaled a plume of smoke and turned to Bruce:

"You have to believe—Shi Ler is truly a good man."

Constantine turned to Bruce. "If a being nearly divine promised to grant you one wish—what would you choose?"

Bruce's lips moved slightly, but he remained silent.

Constantine turned back, watching the car vanish beyond the horizon, the sunset still vast and desolate. He crushed his cigarette, exhaled his last puff, and said:

"Shi Ler chose thirty-six days of vacation."